The diary of W D Gaster
by Fruitbird15
Summary: (A fic covering the life and trials of W D Gaster, on his path from quiet country doctor to royal inventor. Contains liberal headcanons)
1. Chapter 1

So my previous fan fiction might state that I headcanon Gaster as the skelebros father, but my headcanons have a tendency to change without warning, so please excuse any inconsistencies in this story.

* * *

9th of October, 16XX

So, this is what the humans call a diary, hmm? On the surface, an odd idea, recording the days events instead of simply remembering them, but I can understand the theory. After all, everyone forgets things occasionally, and some form of written record can help prevent events and ideas from being lost and forgotten. I see why so many other monsters are taking up this most human of habits, and I am not one to be left behind by the flow of progress.

So then, let us begin.

I am Wing-Dings Gaster, herbalist, apothecary and learned doctor to the good monsters and humans of this village, working with my sweetheart, Helvatica to provide nostrums and remedies to all who are ill. It is a busy life. Monsters can heal fairly easily, but for all their solidity, humans are remarkably fragile, and the pervasive uneasiness about monsters is easily forgotten, when your wife is having twins and one is not eager to enter this world. It is fortunate monsters do not require much sleep, and Skeletons even less so.

Ah, my dear Helvatica is calling me for dinner. How lucky I am to be blessed with her. The milky white of her bone, the lines of her skull as well formed as the most delicate china...oh dear, there I go, rabbiting on. I'm a hopeless romantic sometimes. Hopefully this evening we can make more progress on our planned wedding. I have waited many years for this joyous day, it should be nothing less then perfect for us to start our new life on...

10th October, 16XX

Removed a stick from the nostril of Goodwife Hendersons youngest son. Sold many of our chest cold remedies. The nights are drawing in, and many humans are catching cold. Helvatica will need to gather more Love-In-A-Meadow.

Woken by a banging on the door at midnight to aid the Mayors daughter, who was afflicted by her fits. Poor child. No medicine seems to be able to abate them, but she copes well most days.

15th October 16XX

Oops, this diary was covered up by the accounts book and forgotten. Careless.

There is troubling news. Discontent seems to be brewing in this nation. There is much gossip in the market regarding a war between the humans and monsters. I find that unlikely, there's been peace as long as history remembers. Still, Helvatica is troubled. I am not as concerned. Even if war breaks out, it will not touch this sleepy hamlet. We are far from the Capitol and more concerned with day to day concerns, like the harvest. Speaking of, the harvest festival will be soon. The local Whimsums have begun working on the lanterns affixed to their abdomens, to give light as evening falls. Perhaps the joy of the festival will take Helvatica's mind off the rumours. I may not be updating with any regularity. There is much planning to be done, all hands in the village are needed.

17th October 16XX

The rumours persist still, a faint haze of paranoia hovering over the town square, monsters and humans watching each other closely. Helvatica has been having nightmares. There is little I can do to comfort her.

I have dropped careful questions at the market, and from what I can gather (and be mindful, these are well meaning, but not well educated folk) its something about souls. Hmm. Interesting. We know well that a monsters soul cannot survive after death, and a humans can, but we've known this for years, what reason could there be for a war?

21st October 16XX

It was a beautiful festival. Basking in the beautiful golds and reds, it was impossible to feel there were any clouds in the horizon. Humans and monsters mingled in a way so warm and genuine it brought a tear to my eye, the children shrieking with laughter as they chased one another through the crowds.

As a learned doctor of the town, it was my duty to judge the produce sections, and I was pleasingly gratified to be able to award Margaret best in show for her prize pig. She's been trying very hard for years. In terms of my services being needed, it was a quiet day, a few cases of sunburn among the children easily treated with aloe.

Then it was judging the wine, a task me and Helvatica were perhaps a touch too keen on, and a warm autumn night as we staggered and giggled our way home, and a haystack, and...well, this is a personal diary, but not that personal...

22nd October 16XX

 _I am very hungover and the birds are too loud and I just want to crawl in bed and die..._

25th October 16XX

The Froggit family moved out today. Helvatica saw them leave as she returned home from the bakers. They told her they were "getting out before things go bad". She is deeply concerned, and now I am too. The Froggits, of all monsters. Calm, reliable, thoughtful...To have them leave like rats fleeing a sinking ship, what could this mean? I passed a group of human children on my evening constitution. They didn't smile or follow me for the humbugs in my pockets as they usually did. They were cautious, shrinking back into the shadows. What are their parents telling them?

1st November 16XX

It rained today. Mayors daughter had another turn.

5th November 16XX

It is war.

The word spread like wildfire among the monsters. Early yesterday the humans announced hostilities against the monsters by...by...

They torched the monster homes in the Capitol.

I finally have my answer to why.

They fear our souls. More precisely, they fear what could be if a monster absorbed the soul of a slain human into itself. We are beings of magic, built wholly of our souls. Humans are souls housed in physical shells, protected from the outside world. But what would happen if a monster took the humans essence? The magic of a monster with the strength and determination of a human? What being would be created then, what god-like power? It is this the humans fear. And it seems we innocent monsters must pay the price for their fear. Should we flee like the Froggits? These people are our neighbours, they trust us and we have done much for them. Yet there is a group slowly gathering outside, the movement of the crowd seeming to bounce more in the direction of our house. Their faces look...odd.

Perhaps we can reason with them?

…

 _Helvatica...my dear, sweet Helvatica...I'm so sorry..._


	2. Chapter 2

? November 16XX

I am in hiding. The mob...the mob broke into the house as we appealed for calm, whipped to a frenzy by the words of a strange man in military garb. They refused to listen, and...

Helvatica took the brunt, a pitchfork lodging itself between her delicate ribs. She knew she was wounded, knew she was...dying...and as she turned to face them with fire in her hands, she called for me to escape.

Like a coward, like a dog...I ran. I left her to her fate, to have her dust trodden underfoot by the people who used to love us. My head tells me she was already too far gone to save, but in my heart...I feel I will never find peace for my cowardice. All I have left of her now is the scarf I pulled from her as I attempted to drag her away from the crowd, a few grains of her dust clinging to it from when she began to unravel. I will preserve these few scraps of her, that maybe someday when this insanity blows over, I may scatter her in the flower fields she loved.

I think...I think I will cease my writings for today. It is hard to write through the tears. Maybe there's a barn somewhere I can hide in for the night.

?

I have never been this cold. Never been this hungry. Even Skeletons need shelter and food. I have spent who knows how long trekking across this cursed land, hiding in ditches from patrols, pressing through sodden, wintry forests as I scrounge in bushes for berries that simply fall through my bones. This is human food, a Skeleton cannot survive on this. Nor can I stoop to begging. Monsters are hunted like animals these days.

I saw a battlefield today, hiding in the nearby woods as I watched the two sides ready themselves for battle.

Battle, hah, who am I fooling? It was a massacre. The steel of the humans swords clove through our side as though butter. When the slaughter was over, the snow was thick with dust, as though a forest fire had burned all before it. The humans were untouched. I fear for the future of monsters...

? (I am informed it is December)

I was picked up by a patrol of monsters, straggling back to their camp after being mauled by human forces. One in ten came back alive. As I downed my first proper meal in weeks, I was brought up to speed on the situation.

It has been genocide. Every city in the land has had its own battle, its own "cleansing". The humans fear of monsters has become a frenzy. I am very lucky to have dodged the roving gangs of hunters that swarm after every battle to comb the area for stragglers. It's like a sickness in the humans, a disease. I have spent the day tending to wounded and dying monsters once they found I was a doctor. It is good to make myself useful once more. Through the tent flap as I soothed a dying monster into the next life, I heard talking, whispers that the King, Asgore, had tired of this debacle and sent a messenger bird to the humans, surrendering unconditionally if it would stop this madness. Truth be told, I am glad of the thought. Better a life of imprisonment then the loss of our history and culture. After Helvatica's loss I am broken. I just...can't fight anymore. I would gladly accept slavery. Just please let me rest...I can only pray they are willing to grant us mercy.

17th December (I think)

A ceasefire has been announced as Asgore journeys to the Capitol to discuss the terms. I do not think they will be good for us, but hopefully he can earn us some mercy.

21st December

The surrender was accepted. There was no cheering, we were too tired and cold to cheer, but the mood in the camp immediately relaxed.

Until the human general rode up.

His eyes...they were so cold...

We were ordered to pack our things and march to Mt Ebott. We were not told why, but fearful of the humans swords, we obeyed. I traded the treatment of a claw wound on a human soldiers arm for a rest in the carriage overnight. I am bone weary...pardon my pun. The human soldiers are not happy, and I feel I will not be given this leeway again. Best to make the most of it...

7th January.

This time last year, I warmed my bones in front of a fire with Helvatica and toasted the new year with warm Spider Cider. How things change. We spent our new years struggling through what could only be called a death march. The humans drove us without mercy to Mt Ebott, barely letting us rest or eat. Many Fell Down out of exhaustion or hunger or heartbreak. I just let my mind drift away, the only thought in my head to put one foot in front of the other. Long, miserable, cold days drifted past like this. It was only when we reached the foot of the mountain I allowed myself to return to reality.

The humans let us rest, stating they were waiting for Asgore to arrive with the rest of the monsters. I now sit huddled against a sleeping Vulkin with a small group of monsters. It is all I can do to write. I will...

I will rest a while...

8th January 16XX

The king arrived today. Even streaked in mud and slush and the dust of the monsters who fell beside him, eyes as tired as we all felt, he was a sight so imposing that I fell to my knees as he passed. He stopped, then, and raised me up with a smile. I am tired still, and his words reached me as though through cotton, but I remember they filled me up with warmth. In his regal presence, I felt stronger, bolder. I could see it rippling through the assembled monsters. Behind him, his wife supported the weight of Gerson, our greatest hero, badly wounded, yet still alive. Throughout that day our rulers mingled with us, filling us with renewed strength at their calm presence, even as the humans watched from a distance with narrowed eyes.

That evening, a meeting was called, and Asgore told us the price we would pay for daring to exist, his voice booming out over us, laden with grief.

We were to be banished.

7 of the strongest magicians the humans had to offer were to seal us inside the mountain. Human magic is not strong. But 7 together? I will never forget the silence that fell after that proclamation.

We were to be imprisoned. Forever.

That night, that final night I stayed awake, braving the chill that ate to my marrow to look at the stars one final time. At the entrance to the cave, a patch of snowdrops had been sheltered from the worst of the weather, lily white flowers tattered but still blooming. Holding on. Just like us. I scattered what few ashes I had of her there. I do not wish her to be entombed under the mountain. She will rest eternally under the open sky.

I remember weeping.

I do not remember falling asleep.

Now the sun is cresting the horizon. The king himself woke me as the magicians arrive, and now I update my diary as they prepare their spells. It...passes the time...

9th January 16XX

The most remarkable event took place today. So much to write down I barely know where to begin...

I will start...with the child.

We were herded into the cave mouth, goaded on with cruel jabs from the soldiers spears. The magicians simply watched, some triumphant, some resolutely refusing to look at us, and one, a woman whose brown hair hid most of her face, watching us with deep sadness. I lagged behind the others. I wanted to see this happen, wanted to see the sun for as long as I could, the king and his wife watching next to me, a humble doctor and proud royalty, sharing the same grief.

And as they raised their staffs and began to chant, a child came into view, one who had evidently been behind the rest of the march, running as fast as they could towards the barrier. I saw the flash of white bone in the early morning sun. It was a skeleton child. They were carrying a bundle.

The barrier was thickening, the sunlight already warping and dimming.

And the child jumped.

If they had jumped a second later...

I remember the moment as clear as day, time seeming to slow in my memory. The way they simply launched themselves into space, the way they summoned a sphere of bright blue magic to cradle the bundle they carried.

The way they screamed as the growing barrier hit them like a wave. It was just new enough to allow this, still thickening like the skin on custard. Had they delayed, the child would have been shattered to dust.

And even so, they lay motionless on the floor. My reaction was instinctive, rushing forward to scoop up the still little form.

The humans stepped back, spells wavering in shock. The seeming leader turned and spoke to them, voice muffled by the shield. And the spell resumed.

There was a final ripple, a noise that rose beyond the limits of hearing before petering into silence.

And the barrier set.

It was done.

We were trapped.

I heard the queen sob, and a moan of despair arise from the assembled monsters. But my attention was elsewhere. The bundle in the child's arm had shifted. With a shaking hand I twitched the bright red cloth aside.

And a perfect baby skeleton stared up at me, eye sockets wide and curious. Whole. Healthy. Untouched. The child's shield had worked.

The child...

He lay still, as though dead, yet refusing to blow away. I bent to examine him, and thought I must have been imagining things at what I found.

1 HP.

The boys health had been set to one on his trip through the barrier. One. A single digit. He clung on to the barest wisp of life, as his healthy sibling made contented rattling noises. The smallest miracle, on a day of such despair. A resolve gripped me, a fierce determination. This boy would live.

I lifted them both in my arms, and followed my king deep into the underground.


	3. Chapter 3

10th January 16XX

The child lives still. As we trek through deep caverns to find a place to rest, I carry the children as best I can. I ask for no help, yet Toriel sees me struggling, and takes the infant from me, laughing as he tries his best to yank on her fur. This march is easier then the one to the mountain. The king stops us regularly, to allow the injured and tired to rest. A few mushrooms can be grubbed up from the caverns. They are bitter but safe. I do my best to try and feed the sleeping child, but he will not take nourishment. I...

Please, I can't handle any more death...

? January? 16XX

It's too dark to tell the passage of time here. From here on out I am guessing.

We have reached our final destination. In an expanse of cavern, wide, flat and lit by bright crystals in the walls, our king thrust his trident into the soil and declared this place to be our new home, er...Home...We all love our king, but he's bloody useless at names...

Those of us who are still strong have begun to raise buildings through magic. They are crude things, built from raw stone, yet they should serve us until we can recover enough to begin building afresh.

The children, for the time being, are staying with me. Toriel recognizes that the child requires medical care, and the infant grizzles if he is seperated from his brother. I have managed to get some soup down the boy, yet he still sleeps on. His soul is still there, I can see it, even carefully using soul magic to bring it into the dim light, examining every inch of it to test for cracks and damage. It is whole, yet what should be a lovely sky blue is the colour of a grey sky. I can see tendrils of blue twisting inside it. Perhaps the damage is healing?

I have...

For some reason, this thought has crept into my head. This boys life is an omen. If he lives, monsters will survive underground, if he dies...we will perish, slowly, wailing in despair in the dark...

I know it is only my grief manifesting itself, searching for an outlet for emotion. Truth be told, I am glad. It gives me something to strive for. Sleep, child. Rest and grow strong.

Possibly February 16XX

I have not been able to attend to this diary in some time. My duty calls.

There has been no change. The boy slumbers on. Sometimes in his sleep, he will twitch and cry out softly, before sinking once again into insensibility.

His brother, though...

I have never in my days met a happier child. He never seems to stop giggling, finding innocent entertainment in the smallest things. Even as I write this he is contentedly chewing on the edge of my robe, making quiet baby noises. He's a dear little thing.

By his size, I'm guessing the baby is 6 years old. Us skeletons age so much slower then most monsters, so its hard to tell with any accuracy. His brother is likely only ten years older then him, barely a baby himself. They were dirty and underfed, yet the clothes they wore had been carefully made and darned. Someone loved these Babybones very much. I have seen few other skeletons in the underground so far. One doesn't need to be a genius to understand the sad story behind these children...

I wish the boy would wake.

It's been over a month.

Please, child.

I've lost so much.

Please just give me this one thing.

Still February? 16XX

He woke!

Last night a scream woke me from a fitful nightmare, not the wail of the infant seeking a cuddle, but the anguished sobs of a child in misery.

I have never moved so fast in my life, conjuring a light as I saw him awake for the first time in months, hugging his knees and crying as through his heart would break.

I held him close for what seemed like hours, asking him nothing. He would tell me in his own time, but for now he had demons to conquer that no child should.

…

It is morning ,same day. Around 3 am the boy drifted off into sleep, proper sleep, not the quiet coma he had been trapped in. When he awoke, he screamed again. This time for his brother. I could see the panic welling in his eyes as fresh tears surged forth.

The infant was not impressed to be snatched from his cradle so early, but cheered up immensely when he was pressed into his brothers arms. The child's screams stopped in an instant, and he curled up around his brother. Slowly, he is calming down. When I have prepared breakfast, I will gently seek answers.

…

His name is Sans. The infants name is Papyrus. They were survivors from the Capitol purges. Their mother had not been so lucky. She had kissed Sans goodbye, wrapped her infant in her scarf, and stood guard at the threshold so that the boy could run with the only family he had left. That is all he could tell me, before he dissolved into tears once more. He is frail, this boy, and damaged in more ways then one, clinging to his brother as if to let go is to fall.

I sympathize with him. I too have lost my world.

March? I think? 16XX

Time has passed. I have been exceedingly busy, as monsters everywhere gather their strength to begin the construction of a proper city. There are numerous accidents, and the smaller of us are dropping like flies with exhaustion. The makeshift hospital is full.

Surprisingly, Sans insisted on helping, his brother carried by him on a sling. I tried to protest, but he insisted, revealing a remarkable talent for telekinesis as he lifted bricks up into place, tiny legs shaking and teeth clenched, yet still pressing on. I suspect he is attempting to drown out his inner pain with work. He is driven. There is little I can do besides ensure he takes frequent breaks. Papyrus watches the bustle with interest, utterly unconcerned for the noise. Slowly, a city is rising. The humans have cast us out of their cities. Very well. We will build a better one.

March 23rd (I am assuming this is the date and working from there)

The section of the city I live in has been completed. No more a house that is pretty much a cave! No, now there is a neat, tidy brick dwelling, warm and snug.

In...in a bigger cave...

The children are still with me. I'm not sure what to do with them yet, and Sans seems as though there is something on his mind...

March 24th

Today...today Sans approached me with his concern. I confess, when he spoke up, eyes big and frightened, his words shook me to the core.

"Are you going to send me away?"

The child thought he was a burden to me. I felt...I wanted to cry.

I don't know where the decision came from, what part of me it welled up from, but...

Heh...the funny thing is, I always hated the idea of having children. Me and Helvatica both agreed you'd never find us tied down by the screaming little nuisances...

But now...

I spoke the words so easily, as I rested a hand on Sans's shoulder.

And told him that him and his brother could live with me.

As my sons.


	4. Chapter 4

25th March

Now what the hell do I do?

I'm no family man, I have no idea how to raise children! I'm too analytical, I'm too impatient, I'm too tall and lanky to hug properly!

I just...

I need to calm down...

Just...

I can manage this.

I survived a broken heart and a death march in the heart of winter...

I can raise two children...

26th March.

It must have slipped out that I had gained two new family members. Today I was visited by non other then the King and Queen themselves!

I was...humbled. Deeply humbled that they would take time to visit a simple doctor. And acutely aware of the mess, dust and clothes and the few toys I've been able to create for them scattered on the floor.

I am so grateful they understood. They came bearing gifts and advice, a proper crib for Papyrus and a teddy Asgore had haphazardly sewn for Sans. It's a wreck of a doll, but the boy took it like a gift from the heavens. It was good to see him look like a proper child again.

Bless our royalty. In our darkest hour they show what it means to lead, to keep hope even while it seems all is dark.

Sans is still having nightmares. I hear him scream for his mother at night. I wish there was more I could do for him.

30th March.

I have started to experiment with the cavern flora, to see what is usable for cures. If we are here to stay, we may as well make the most of it. I've gathered what samples of flowers and mushrooms I can find, lets see what I can do with them.

31st March

 _I almost killed him._

 _Oh god...I almost killed him..._

Papyrus. I hadn't realized he was that far along with his crawling. I had discovered a certain mix of mushrooms was toxic, and as I went to dispose of them, the kettle boiled over. By the time I'd fixed it...

He'd eaten half.

He was so...quiet...

Even as I poured as much healing magic as I could into him...he was so silent and still...

He's awake now, babbling as though nothing happened. Sans refuses to let him out of his sight, still sobbing with residual terror.

I don't blame him.

I'm a fool! I'm a stupid fool! I should have known better then to leave things like that lying around with children in the house! What was I thinking, taking these two in? I can barely take care of myself...

No. I can't give up on them now. I've learned from this. I can improve. I can adjust. I'll keep all medicines and experiments locked up from now on.

Gods, my hands won't stop shaking...

14th May

Whoops, I'd wondered where this had gone. The diary went missing some time ago, I only found it under Papyrus's crib this evening. He'd been chewing on it. Still, the tooth marks aren't that bad.

Its been a state of quiet domesticity here. Now that the worst of the hazards are locked away, the two are fairly easy to care for. Sans rests most of the day as his soul slowly heals, and Papyrus is content so long as he has something to chew on. Though I wonder how long this will last. He is showing interest in trying to walk these days.

There is a steady trickle of monsters coming through my door these days, seeking cures. It's almost like old times again...

I miss her...

16th May

Papyrus took his first steps today! It's the first time I've seen Sans smile since he arrived here. I've put deflecting magic on the corners of everything. I have a feeling it will be neede-

Papyrus just fell over. Good call, Gaster.

19th May

Scouts discovered an abyss in the area we've come to call Waterfall. It's proven to be a goldmine. Humans have been dumping trash here, and it's remarkable what can be salvaged. Many broken farm tools have been salvaged and repaired, and proper fields have been started. Slowly, we rebuild.

21st May.

A bad day. Sans appears to be rebelling against everything I ask of him, his grief and misery fusing in his heart into rage. Even a request to pick his clothes up off the floor will inevitably end in a screaming fit, a cry of "you aren't my father!" and a slammed door. I tried to be patient today, but my will broke in the face of this aggravation. I am not used to parenting.

Mistakes were made.

I said...things I'm not proud of.

The fight only ended when Papyrus began crying at the noise. Now I gently bounce him on my knee as Sans cries in his room.

I just...

I don't know what to do...

22nd May.

His misery overwhelmed him today. As I updated my notes this evening I heard a soft noise from the doorway. In all my years as a doctor, I've never seen more grief on anyone's face as I did when I looked up and saw him. Last nights argument had been too much for him.

All he wanted was a hug.

For the first time, as I held him and let him grieve for the life he'd lost on the surface, I felt as though I could do this. It would be hard. I will make mistakes. But I can be a father. Maybe not the best one, but I will try. For their sakes, I will try.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Yeah, its a short chapter, fight me. Next chapter is gonna get interesting, but this one was kind of a speed bump. I'm just glad I could crank anything out at all._**

* * *

4th June

Papyrus said his first word! "Sans"

The child in question is strutting around as though ten feet tall. He is smiling for the first time since I saw him. I'm proud of both of them.

13 October.

My pardons for forgetting. It's been a hectic few months as Home moved towards completion. And now it's done. A market, streets, a palace. It's a touch rough around the edges, but the final lamps in the streets were lit last night. Food is still rationed, but they were able to scrape together enough for a city wide party, the king and queen walking among their people in the crowded streets. The children rest against me as I write, both worn from the long day and loud celebrations. Strange to think in a few months it will have been a full year since we were trapped down here.

One down, eternity to go.

Ahahaha!

Hah...

I want to go home...

I want the sun to warm my bones again.

I want to feel the rain again, to hear the drumming of a storm on my roof as I drift off to the rhythm of the drops.

I want to wish upon the stars at night, like I never used to do because I _had everything I ever wanted._

I want her back.

I just want her back...

I'm drowning here. Drowning under the weight of the stone above us.

Please...

15th October.

Enrolled Sans in school. I have sent the teacher a note detailing his delicate condition. Hopefully they can exclude him from anything too rough and tumble.

Papyrus wept the entire day, calling for Sans repeatedly. I'd never seen anyone happier then when Sans came home and Papyrus came tottering towards him. The two are inseparable. I hope tomorrow he will have come to terms with the fact Sans must leave for school sometimes.

16th October.

Sadly, no.

He's taken to hauling the scarf he was wrapped in around like a toy as he wanders the house in desperate search of his brother. Holding him close seems to stem the crying, but he still wilts sadly in my arms. In time, you'll learn, child. Sometimes people you love can't...can't always be there for you.

20th October

Well...

That was...something...

The king, bless his heart, stumbled and spilled boiling tea on his arm today, searing deep beyond the aid of home healing magic.

This morning, the queen herself knocked on my door, injured husband in tow. She'd heard I was a doctor, and a good one. If a year ago you'd told me I would be treating the King himself, I would have laughed in your face.

And yet here I am. I've applied a healing poultice and instructed them in its care. It's a bad scald. Should take a few days to heal, even with the magic infused in the poultice.

I see no reason why it shouldn't heal well, he's a sensible man.

I saw the neighbours gossiping among themselves as the king left, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride.

26th October.

My hands are shaking so much I can barely write. I can't believe this!

The king and queen were so impressed at how my poultice healed him without even a scar that they both unanimously agreed.

I am the new Royal doctor!

I will now receive a salary, instead of relying on other monsters purchasing my remedies, which can lead to lean weeks if everyone in the area is doing well.

They offered me quarters in the palace, but I respectfully declined. I would rather stay here. I don't wish to let my title go to my head. Living here and working among the other monsters grounds me, reminds me who I am. They understood.

My soul is still trembling from the excitement. Sans seems pleased, from what I can tell. He's having one of his morose days. And Papyrus is too young to understand, he's just smiling because I'm smiling.

I feel as though my life is beginning to find its footing somewhat. It still...

It still hurts.

I miss her every day.

But it's easier to find distractions.

29th October

I have learned an important lesson. The time to worry most with children is not when they're screaming.

It's when they go quiet.

I was halfway through updating the accounts when I realized I hadn't heard a peep from Papyrus in a long time. It turned out he'd been entertaining himself in Sans absence by breaking into the fortunately non toxic ingredients and painting the walls with echo flower paste.

I'm...actually kind of impressed. He managed to get some on the ceiling, of all places.

This child, I swear...

I'll have to get him some paints, if he's going to make messes like that, boiling down echo flowers is time consuming.

3rd November

Sans got into a fight at school today. It seems some kids are picking on him for his low HP. By sheer fortune he was able to dodge the other children's attacks, but the funny thing is, when the teachers arrived at the ruckus all the children who had initiated the attack were huddled at the other end of the playground, scraped, bruised and terrified.

And they won't say why.

Sans won't tell me either, but there is a gleam of triumph in the child's eyes. What is this boy...?


	6. Chapter 6

(I usually try and keep each chapter with a vague running theme, but this ones length began to creep up on me, so I cut it short. The next chapter might be slightly shorter then others, can't say for certain yet. Thank you for your patience, writers block sucks.)

* * *

23rd April, perhaps a few decades since the last entry. I suspect we are now well into the 18th century.

I hadn't meant for the diary to become lost. A lot of things happened, for instance.

Like the earthquake.

It wasn't a deadly one. I think only one unfortunate soul was killed by falling rubble, but Home sustained enough structural damage that few of us feel safe living there. During the course of a few months, the place was practically emptied, with the exception of the smaller, more frail monsters, who felt a journey would be dangerous, and were more attached to the familiar comforts of Home. The Froggits, the Whimsums, the Vegetoids, all preferred to stay.

Fair enough.

We packed our bags the day after the quake, trekking through the underground to the place the King had determined would be safe.

He called it...

Well...

New Home.

He...really isn't good at this, is he?

We settled in the outskirts. The new settlement called Snowdin is too cold, Waterfall is too damp for Sans fragile health and Hotland is too dangerous now Papyrus is walking. During the move, my diary was mixed up in the bags by Sans's well meaning inventory system, I've only found it just now.

Despite our changed location, family wise not much has changed. Papyrus is growing like a weed, already talking very well for his age.

It's getting him to shut up for five minutes that's the trick.

Sans is...Sans. Still frail, still quiet. His nightmares seem to have stopped. Either that or he's gotten better at waking silently. I worry for him still.

That hasn't changed.

Ever since I first held his still form and promised I'd save him.

The world above seems to have changed too. New, interesting items are being dumped. I've recently picked up a few sodden text books from the heaps in waterfall.

They are relating to a new discovery called, as near as I can translate..."electricity".

The book is wet and damaged, but I will persevere. This sounds very interesting.

Best cut this short, I've received a summons to the palace. I hope they're alright.

24th April.

Joyous news!

The Queen is with child!

It is evening as I write this, and the dimness of my room is lit periodically with the flash of magic fireworks as the celebrations continue. Papyrus has talked my ear off eagerly asking if he can play with the new child (bless his eagerness) and even Sans threatened to crack a smile.

We are still trapped under miles of stone, but there is always joy in new life. Not even the humans could take that from us.

Your health, Queen Toriel. I will care for you as best I can.

30th April

I have managed to tease meaning from the sodden textbooks from the dump. They are a record of human scientific discoveries over the last few decades, considering the quality, possibly thrown out by accident.

Their loss. I have located the required copper and zinc, all I need now is acid. I'm sure I can find a way to produce some. At a pinch I can procure vinegar.

1st May.

Success! My first experiment produced a tingling, crackling sensation over my fingers, a feeling like cold and prickly magic. The children found it endlessly amusing, though I kept Sans away from it. I feel its best to be cautious. I wonder, can I use this "electricity" to power things? I'd need a source of energy for it to work. Copper and zinc and acid can work up to a point, but anything usable needs something to feed off.

Would it work with magic?

3rd May.

I woke this morning to find scribblings on my wall. Before I could call my children in to scold them, I recognized the handwriting.

Mine.

Ever since I deciphered the textbooks, learned of "science" my mind has BURNED. Everything just...makes so much sense. I show my notes to other monsters and they just don't seem to understand. How can they not? It's so simple! It's as though I've been dying of thirst my entire life, and have fallen by chance into a deep well. How could I have lived my life not knowing of this? I knew about the correct ways to examine and experiment with plants, but this? The makeup of the world itself?

How could I have been so blind?

My hands shake constantly, itching to open my scientific notebooks and start working. What could I do with this information? What a foolish question!

What can't I do with this?

10th May

I am scaring my children.

This has gone too far.

As I prepared a remedy for Toriels morning sickness I overheard Sans whispering to Papyrus what he'd seen in the night as he woke to get a drink.

He had seen a glow under my door and inched it open, to see me hunched over a wall, scrawling plans with a lump of charchol as my eye sockets burned with blue fire. He had made a noise, and I turned to him, eyes still burning.

Sans fled.

I don't remember any of this! I'm terrifying one of my only reasons to get out of bed and I'm not even aware! I'll keep notebooks nearby when I sleep, experiment with sleeping teas. This has gotten out of hand. I got over excited. My discoveries are important, but Sans and Papyrus will always matter first.

26th May.

Golden flower tea seems to have soothed my nighttime incidents. Funny, this time the king was advising his doctor!

15th July.

Toriels pregnancy progresses well. I was able to locate the heartbeat for the first time today. Asgore is over the moon. The child won't be born for another year and he's already hard at work on a nursery. He seems truly happy for the first time in so long. He's tried to hide it, but we could see the weight of our imprisonment weighing on him.

It never gets old to me, being in the presence of our greatest leaders.

Toriel and Asgore have always understood, better then human kings, the secret to royalty. Why monsters have always loved them, truly and deeply.

"I will be loyal to you, as you are loyal to me."

They have never abused us, never pressed us down or forced us. As we love them, they love us too.

And yet, as I see the Queens stomach swell each day, there is grief.

Boss monsters do not age.

Unless they have children.

Someday soon, we will have to watch them die.

18th July.

Me and Sans have been working together recently. I feel it might be good for him to involve himself more in activities, and the boy seems to have a flair for science. My current experience is to see if magic can be used to produce electricity. We've been setting up some equipment and making copper wires in preparation. Papyrus is keen to help, but can't seem to grasp the concepts. He's a little too young, anyway.

19th July.

Found a snazzy new outfit at the dump today. Like a shirt with no sleeves. One of the human books that falls down occasionally says its called a waistcoat. Its quite useful. I was tired of my robe sleeves always catching in things. The kindly rabbit monster who babysits the boys while I'm working at the palace washed and darned it for me, along with a pair of trousers. MUCH better then my musty old robes.

…

And of course the first thing I do is spill Mrs Snowdrakes decongestant on it.

Blast.

21 July.

We tested my machine today. A small, whats the word, prototype? Pretty sure that's it.

My hypothesis was that if Sans provided a small jolt of magic, the machine would convert it into magical electricity. I hooked it up to a small test subject, a device of wire and blown glass ( _Insanely_ hard to make with no lips) that, if I'm right, should heat a filament to incandescent temperatures. A small bulb of light. (Memo to self, work out better name) I hooked it up with baited breath, held it out for Sans to apply the magic...

And woke up upside down in a pile of furniture. We hadn't agreed beforehand what was meant by "a small amount of magic" In his eagerness to please, he'd sent a healthy dose of magic through the machine. New piece of information: Electricity _hurts._ It actually took a few points off my HP.

Ah well, nothing a glass of golden flower tea won't cure.

And even if it had badly wounded me, the experiment was a success! For a moment, before the electricity blew me backwards, the bulb lit! Imagine it! A small magic powered furnace in every home, lighting and warming it at the mere cost of a small amount of magic! Perhaps someday down the line I can work on larger and more efficient models, but for now I will approach Asgore and ask for a small research grant to continue developing this one.

I feel...no, not hope. We are too far gone for hope, but...happy. We can make this work. It is perhaps not where we should be, but we can make it as good as the surface.

No.

We can make it _better._

Yes! I can take their technology that they discard like rubbish and recreate it, adapt it, improve it!

I'll show them, those thoughtless beings that mindlessly let fear control them. I'll take everything they are proud of and make it better then what their clumsy fingers can produce. I can summon hands at will, working ten times as fast! What do those hairless apes have, hmm?

Pitiful, all of them.

26th August.

The King approved my research. He seemed fascinated by the idea. Nothing like a magic powered furnace of this kind has ever been attempted, and he is a forward thinking man. Toriel approved as well, noting the light produced was clear and unwavering, perfect for sewing nights.

Her pregnancy progresses well.

I will likely not be updating often, juggling the boys and my research will leave me little time.

17th October

I...have not had a good time.

I thought...it had been so long since her memory pained me, sliced into my heart...I thought I'd passed the grieving.

And yet...

I was checking on Toriels progress, and at some point the conversation turned to her.

Helvatica...

I found myself telling a funny story about her, laughing along with the royal pair about her antics. I was laughing, genuinely laughing at her memory, something I haven't done in years.

And somehow the laughter became agonized sobs, waves of pain striking from nowhere.

I couldn't breathe...I was gasping for air against the tears as I remembered her and couldn't stop.

The King...gods, we are blessed to have him...the King took it upon himself to comfort me.

He's a good man.

After the storm had passed, and I was able to stand without support, they gently suggested I take a holiday. I have had so much on my mind with Toriels pregnancy and my research.

I guess I got a little bit overwhelmed.

Toriel insisted she would be alright for a fortnight or two, so I write this from the inn in Snowdin. The boys have commandeered the other bed and are dozing in a little pile, both exhausted from their antics in the snow.

This is a nice little town, yet my heart still aches.

Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day.

19th October

The children are enjoying Snowdin. It's good to see them have some room to run around. New home is starting to get slightly crowded these days.

Its very interesting to watch the difference in their personalities, especially in a new place.

Sans is much the same as he always is, quiet and shy. Though I've noticed these days its less a withdrawn, sad kind of quiet, and more the silence of someone content to watch the world go by.

He still has moments when he acts like the child he is, and its heartening to watch. When he wants to the boy has a hell of a turn of speed. I've never seen him lose a game of tag as he almost seems to teleport around the playing field. But mostly he's content to walk along beside me holding my hand. Sans is aware of his limited health, and is very responsible about maintaining it.

Papyrus, now he is something different. I don't think I've seen him stop moving once since he arrived in Snowdin, haring around yelling at the top of his lungs about whatever crosses his mind. You can track his path by the blurred footprints occasionally broken up by snow angels as he trips on his scarf, falls, and decides he may as well have fun while he's down there.

It's wonderful to finally get to spend proper time with them, not burdened by my duties. I can have snowball fights, build snowmen, play fight. I'm raising children any monster would be proud of and I almost never noticed.

I was almost my father, hiding among his potion experiments to avoid the responsibilities of a child he never wanted in the first place.

It was why I never wanted children in the first place, I was too scared I'd leave them alone, unloved.

I'm glad I was wrong in the end.

I'll take them into this new "Grillbys" place that just opened up for dinner tonight. I'm sure they'll like it.

20th October

I woke this morning with no tears staining my pillow. This town is doing me good.

Papyrus didn't much like Grillbys, too greasy for his taste. Sans loved the place, however. I'm glad he enjoyed himself, I just wish he wouldn't chug ketchup right from the jar. Its rather off putting...

30th October

We'll be returning to New Home tomorrow and the children are both sulking, presenting a united front as they sit on the bed and glower at me (Well, Sans, mostly. Papyrus doesn't really have it in him to be angry for long.) They don't want to go home. I don't blame them, really. But I'll present a compromise. We will return every year for a holiday, just us as a family. Something for them to look forward to. I'll miss Snowdin too, but sadly, life must go on. I must say, I feel rejuvenated. This holiday worked a treat. Asgore really does know what is best for his subjects.

I can already feel my fingers twitching. I've had a few new ideas for improvements to my model.

Right, time to see if I can drag them away from here. I suspect I may have to bribe them with a cinnamon bunny first.


	7. Chapter 7

31st October.

Home sweet home! I feel good, energized and refreshed. I hadn't meant to push myself that far, but knowing my limits has never been something I was good at.

I had some good ideas during my holiday on the nature of sound and the "phonograph" I found at the dump before I left. A clever idea of the humans, but inefficient and with poor quality sound. I can improve it exponentially with the application of those crystals in waterfall, they vibrate in a peculiar way when struck. I'll send Papyrus down tomorrow to gather some. I should involve the children in my work more, it'll be good for them. 

16th November.

A prototype has been build and given preliminary testings. It worked well with natural sounds, but it needed testing on voices. Papyrus begged and pleaded to be allowed to be a test subject, and I was only too happy to prepare a wax cylinder for recording. (note to self, find better material. Some kind of resin?)

As for the result, it was pure Papyrus. He forgot his words, mumbled, stumbled, burst into giggles and got sidetracked with whatever random thoughts flitted across his young mind.

All recorded in flawless quality. I sent a different sample to the king, and kept my sons words safely tucked away in the chest containing my most precious things. He won't be that young forever. 

19th November

Another checkup with Toriel. The baby is growing well. Installed the first properly manufactured Magical Furnace in the Palace while I was there. They'll be trialing it to see if its good for release among the general population. Fingers crossed... 

1st December

Sans got in another fight at the park today. It seems some children were picking on Papyrus for his good nature, and made the terrible mistake of doing so within earshot of Sans.

They had to get one boy down out of a tree.

I sympathize with Sans, the thought of any snotty nosed brat making Papyrus so much as frown makes me burn with rage, but violence is not the answer.

He has been grounded.

I must admit, I am impressed. This time I saw the entire thing. His telekinesis...how can a child that young have such a powerful control over it?

What did the barrier do to him?

Papyrus is not defenceless either. He's begun to play around in his childish way with bones, but he's too kind to use them against anyone. I worry about him sometimes. He's so gentle, how could he defend himself against someone who might want to hurt him? At the same time, I'm not keen to see that innocence shatter. It is a rare and precious thing. 

24th December.

Ah, Christmas eve. The streets of New Home are lit up green and red with christmas lights and the strains of a flock of door to door carollers can be heard from my room. I can also hear Sans and Papyrus whispering to each other in the belief that I'm not aware they're awake on Christmas eve. They're buzzing with excitement. Tomorrow, Asgore will be walking the streets disguised as Santa, with his bag of toys for the children. Truth be told, I'm more looking forward to putting my feet up with a glass of eggnog by the fire while the children amuse themselves.

…

I remember my last Christmas with Helvatica. We made the house green with holly, got drunk on cider, carried away under the mistletoe. I miss her like an ache. I still have her scarf tucked away in a chest, brittle and yellow with age next to Papyrus's recording.

Seems I'm always morose this time of year... 

25th December.

A lovely Christmas. Sans and Papyrus both enjoyed the toys they got from Asgore very much, plus the ones I got for them. I found a childrens book of jokes and puns for Sans at the dump and dried it out carefully. Papyrus I gave a book of adventure tales. Being as impressionable as damp clay, he's borrowed Gersons pith helmet and plans to go out "exploring the vast wilds" of waterfall. So long as he wraps up warm.

Sans spent the evening sharing puns from his book over dinner. I don't think I'll get tired of hearing

him genuinely laughing at these silly jokes. 

27th December

 _I was wrong._

 _He won't stop._

 _Gods I've made a mistake._

1st January

A new year dawns.

A calendar was found at the dump. It is the year 1898. A new millenium fast approaches. It's been a busy year. The human technology found at the dump is brought to the lab thoughtfully constructed for me in hotland in a steady stream, and infinitely better monster tech flows out. The...ugh, the king asked so nicely to be allowed to name this one, "magiphone" has proven popular. It's nice to enjoy some music around the house.

And yet even with all my work distracting me, the fact its the anniversary of the death march to Mt Ebott is inescapable. I have the worst nightmares this time of year, ones that wake me trembling in the night, driving me to bolt from my bed and desperately check the children are safe.

It passes.

Just...never soon enough. 

4th January.

Papyrus began school today. He's so excited, I barely had time to give him a goodbye hug before he was bolting through the school gates after Sans. Now the house is silent for the first time I can remember since we came underground.

…

I don't like it.

I tried playing the recording of Papyrus, but the house is just so empty. 

12th January

Papyrus seems to be doing well in school. His teacher says he's very sharp in his classes, and after a certain...incident the bullies don't touch him, but I've noticed he seems slightly withdrawn at home. I've tried to ask him what's wrong, but he changes the subject and becomes suspiciously chipper.

I hope he's doing alright. 

13th January.

Received word from the king that the furnace performed admirably. Will be preparing it for release in the general populace. I feel this could really make a name for me.

I wonder...could I make a bigger one? 

15th January

So that was what was eating the poor boy.

I heard sniffling coming from the boys room and found Papyrus sitting crying gently on his bed. It only took a little prodding to make the truth come out.

No one wants to be friends with him.

Sadly, his eager efforts to be friendly are serving only to frighten off the other children. They don't dare poke fun with Sans watching from a distance, but Sans can't do anything about them ditching him like that Jerry child. He's an empathetic lad, Papyrus, he knows what they're doing.

And its hurting him deeply.

Poor child. I sat with him and comforted him, telling him that those children didn't know what they were missing, and that someday he would make someone an amazing friend. I meant it too. Theres a boundless well of warmth and kindness in the boy, happiness never far from the surface. He cheered up quickly at my words and ran off to play.

You'll find happiness someday, Papyrus. Don't let them get to you. 

17th January

That boy will be the end of me...

I had been preparing a blueprint when Sans approached me, trying to hide his utter terror as he offhandedly mentioned Papyrus had gone missing.

Sans is a capable lad despite his disability, but if theres one thing he can't do, its say no to Papyrus. And he had asked to be allowed to be more independent. An understandable request, he is growing quick after all. So Sans allowed him to run off to waterfall and play explorers on his own. In a pith helmet 3 sizes too big. It had slipped over his eyes and caused him to fall down a small hole, twisting his ankle. When we finally found him a few hours later, he was cold, wet and terrified. Now he's resting, complaining at the top of his voice with his foot resting on a snow poff. I've asked Gerson to make him a smaller helmet if this is going to be a regular occurrence. 

20th February

I'm very concerned. The queen has grown quiet and withdrawn lately, prone to bouts of irritable snapping. Asgore has joked (very quietly, out of earshot) that its like living with a bear with toothache. Could she be approaching birth? It's a little too early still. 

27th February

 _It's happening._

28th February

It's a boy! Never in all my years have I seen the underground so happy as they were when Asgore stood on the balcony of the palace and gently held up his new child. It was a long birth, right through midnight, and Toriel is currently sleeping, exhausted by her efforts. I'm worn as well. I needed every trick I had and everything in my birthing bag to bring him forth safely. An early childs magic is not yet well formed. Still, in the end it was successful.

I've been offered a room at the palace until I feel she's well enough to be alone. I can hear Asgore from here, softly singing a lullaby as his son squeaks back at him, all soft white fluff and huge eyes.

They are a beautiful family.

Long live our new prince!


	8. Chapter 8

2nd March.

We held the new princes naming ceremony today, in the throne room. Its always a welcome place. He's turned it into an indoor garden, with surface flowers whose seeds he brought with him when we came here. I'm very fond of the place. Its good to see so many plants we would otherwise never see again, particularly the white roses growing up around the thrones. A perfect place to name a child, among multicoloured flowers and the smell of roses. Toriel chose the name, much to my silent relief.

Asriel.

A perfect name. 

4th March.

I think this must perhaps be the most macabre piece of mathematics I have ever done. I wish to work out how much longer Asgore and Toriel will stay among us now they have a child. From what I have worked out, taking into account the average boss monster child grows at a rate of 1 year for every ten compared to an average human, plus the parents soul power being depleted by the time the child is usually the equivalent of 18...

At most, Asgore and Toriel have around 180 years, perhaps 200 if they are strong.

Gods, even the thought makes me ache. 2 centuries isn't anywhere near enough time to prepare myself for their loss... 

16th March

I'm very concerned about Sans. He's approaching the skeleton equivalent of his teen years, but he's barely growing. Papyrus is younger but is already nearly a full head taller. I wonder if the Barrier affected his growth? 

4th May

Tsk, I'm very bad at remembering to update my diary. It keeps getting lost or forgotten. I've filled so many work journals with ideas and notes, but my personal one keeps getting lost in the shuffle. Its actually been...six years. Little has changed, really. Papyrus is taller and thats really it. He's...well...he's still lonely. He still over reaches himself trying to get people to like him. I worry. Him and Sans are close, but a boy needs more friends then just his brother...

the prince is doing well. As the royal doctor its my duty to perform his examinations. Currently he's at the grabbing stage, keeps trying to eat my medical equipment. 

15th December.

To Snowdin! Ah, I still never tire of these outings. We're planning on camping in Snowdin woods this year, and as I write the children are sprawled on the floor of the Snowed Inn packing our hiking bags in preparation for the hike as they discuss a radio show they heard the other week (brilliant invention, the radio. Too good for those humans, my version is twice as accurate in picking up signals, no crackling or static. Top that, you filthy apes...) Papyrus is insisting at the top of his lungs it was a real event that took place. Papyrus, dear, we have no need for spies in the underground, but it does no harm if you believe that I suppose... 

17th December.

...Well blast. We weren't half a mile from the camp site when I slipped on packed ice down an embankment and cracked my tibia. Papyrus had to carry me on his shoulders back to Snowdin, while Sans _helpfully_ kept my mood up with terrible bone puns. I'm not a man who tolerates pain well and it was all I could do not to snap at him, but he's made good progress mentally and the puns help I think. Still, I suppose there are worse ways to spend Christmas then sitting in a warm inn with a healing cast for a few days. 

_(The entries for the following century have been edited due to what appears to be spaghetti spilled over one of the journals.)  
_

4th April

I awoke this morning with a sudden, brilliant idea in my head.

I remember a while ago wondering if I could build a bigger magic furnace. And last night, I took a shortcut home through hotland, admiring the dangerous yet beautiful expanses of hot magma. And in my dreams, the two collided and mingled.

What kind of energy is the Hotlands most rich in? Thermal energy! Imagine, a furnace, taking in the heat of the magma and converting it into magical electricity, kilowatts and kilowatts of power streaming through the underground, powering everything! We have the things used to make it, the dump is a rich supply of material, and anything it doesn't have, we can mine for easily! I have so many ideas flitting through my brain I can barely focus on one at a time, think if the potential! This could be the hugest project I have ever done. I think this diary will be somewhat neglected.

And I'll need to make sure my child aren't neglected as well. I'll let them help, keep them involved. Sans is good at this kind of thing. He'll enjoy it. 

21 June.

It has been...4 years, I think. The project, which has been given the working title of the Core, has been taking longer then anticipated. Every new step needs about 50 things done to get it to where it needs to be. I'm riding my reputation on this, I dread to think what would happen if I fail...

I've been careful to make time for my children as I do this. We've continued the yearly trip to Snowdin, and have decided as a family to take it at Christmas time. Its the best time of the year, just the three of us, and I swear its helping my ideas for the Core work smoother. The boys are much the same as ever. Sans is keenly involving himself in the Core. He's good with building the smaller components, a hard worker when he wants to be. Papyrus hasn't changed, either. A little older, a lot taller (my god will this boy ever stop growing?) but still his innocent and friendly self. The explorer phase has changed ever since those rubbishy comics with humans in capes and tight costumes started falling into the dump. He aspires to be a hero nowadays. A dangerous path... 

21st August.

Annual checkup with Asriel today. I really do look forward to those, he's such a pleasant child. Not a cruel or bad tempered bone in his body. Though he did inform me as I took his pulse that he was feeling lonely, waiting until his parents were away preparing refreshments before he opened up. He asked me if I knew where babies came from so he could get a new sibling from there. I...quietly deflected that one back towards his parents. Sadly, there won't be any royal siblings to play with for him, Boss Monsters can only have one child. 

15th November

Papyrus returned home very late from school today, raging with a temper I've never seen before. He'd gone down to Snowdin to pick up cinnamon bunnies for dessert and seen a group of other students from his class chasing down and trapping a Glyftrot, forcibly decorating the poor thing. He'd laid about them with his bones and chased them away, but the Glyftrot had run off by this point. I've never seen Papyrus this angry, shaking so hard his bones rattled as his eyes burned with orange fire. People see him and think he's innocent and naïve, but he is not blind to cruelty and injustice. If he can keep that gentleness at the core of his heart, he will make a fine young man. I'm very proud. 

16th November

The parents of the teens he punished showed up at my door today, furious at the bruises their children had staggered home with. They are right, such violence should not go unpunished, but its hard to feel sorry for them when they did such a senseless act to begin with. I will wait until Papyrus is home before I discuss a suitable punishment, he's at Snowdin, trying to bait the Glyftrot nearer so he can remove the decorations. I don't think he'll have much luck, that one will be terribly nervous around teenagers. 

6th December.

Last visit to the palace for business before we leave for Snowdin. Toriel had called about Asriel complaining of an itchy head. The child was vigorously scratching his head against a wall when I arrived, seemingly unaware of the existence of anyone else. Nothing to be concerned about, his horns are budding. This one only needs time. 

2nd January.

A bad night.

A bad nightmare.

I'll need to call someone over to see about fixing the hole in my wall.

I hate new years. 

5th February

I've picked up an apprentice, it seems. In my usual weekly scavenge in the dump for useful items, I became aware of soft noises behind me, and a small shadow ducking away every time I turned. I pretended I saw nothing for awhile as I lulled them into a false sense of security, before they finally got too close, and I was able to surprise them by reaching into the pile of trash they were hidden in and drag them out by a horn. Their name is Alphys. I think I've seen her around before. A quiet young thing, barely just out of high school. After I was able to convince her I wasn't mad, she revealed she had a passion for science, and as I am, with no hyperbole, the greatest scientist in the Underground, she'd taken to following me, hoping some of my brilliance would rub off on her. She has a bright look in her eye, so I feel like the internship I offered her will pay off well. 

15th June

The Core rushes to completion. Any path you walk in Hotland, you can see it looming overhead. Some strange new items have been found in the dump, items full of small chips of silicon and wires. Alphys is proving to be worth her weight in G when it comes to these "computers". She has a natural talent for working out what they do and how to repurpose them to serve the core. She's been showing me how they work in her spare time. Gods, what I couldn't do with these... 

17th June

What are these rumours I'm hearing? Something about...a human? Here, in the underground?

…

We are damned.


	9. Chapter 9

18th June.

I have been summoned to the palace. I know what its for. I told the King I needed a moment to prepare my bag. Truthfully, I needed the time to try and control the bubbling pit of hatred that writhes in my core.

 _HUMANS._

Does he not know my history with them?! Does he not understand how it feels to watch your beloved unravel before you with a rusty pitchfork in her chest? 60 years of my life I gave those filthy, wretched monkeys, and what did I get? No gratitude, nothing! Just misery and loss! I suppose I'd better get this over with. It's been a long time since I've worked with humans again...

I wish the damn thing had died back there in the ruins. 

19th June

My world has been turned upside down.

I feel numb.

I had so much hatred going to the palace. As I walked, monsters fled before me. I can't imagine how they must have felt, seeing something like me stalking towards the palace like a predator, eye burning with cold blue fire.

I would have fled too.

Even the King cringed back when he first saw me.

They led me to the medical wing. And the human.

Just a child, but even then all I could feel was fire in my heart. Just another pink ape. It screamed as it saw me, a creature of nightmares, a skeleton looming over it, eyes black as night.

And as it threw its arm across its face to block the sight of me, its sleeve fell away and my rage vanished, leaving only a chill.

Toriel told me the child had fallen.

Falls don't leave bruises like handprints.

When the fog of my hatred lifted, I saw the details I'd missed the first time. Lank, unkempt hair, ground in dirt and worn clothes, bones almost showing through the skin. I moved slowly around them, handling the delicate limbs like fine china even as they tried to cringe away. Asriel clung to his mothers robes as he babbled the story. Against his parents wishes, he'd been exploring the ruins, a place supposed to be strictly off limits to children. He'd heard a crashing noise and a desperate scream for help and come running. It's good he did, the child was quite injured, their arm badly broken and face covered in dried blood from a bleeding nose. I was able to bribe their name out of them with a piece of candy.

Chara.

I was able to examine them more thoroughly after that. They're a mess. Someone really worked them over, I've never seen so many bruises. I did the best I could with healing items and a cast, but what they really need is love and care. I saw the look on Toriels face, and the way Asriel stared in wide eyed wonder at the child. I don't think that will be hard to find.

I hugged my children very close when I got home. 

21st June

Another urgent call to the palace, this time to dose a very sore stomach. Sadly, Toriel had thought that since the child was so hungry, a big rich meal was needed, and had made them snail pie. Her snail pie is very nourishing indeed, but rich food on an empty stomach is not a good combination, and the child was quite miserable. Poor Toriel feels terrible, but she didn't know. Can't be helped. It's best Chara is given something like soup for a while, something nice and easy on the stomach. 

26th June.

I've never seen the underground so abuzz with gossip before. Everywhere I go theres a feel in the air, like in the old days on the surface before a thunderstorm. Theres no anger at the king for harbouring a human, just an electric buzz. The talk is in every bar, coffee shop and work place. I can't avoid it even at the worksite on the core. When they found out I had treated the child...great heavens I could barely move with monsters barraging me with questions. Theres this feeling in the air, something I can't quite out my finger on... 

29th June

Found some brightly coloured comic books in the trash today. Something about robots, I wasn't really paying attention. With this renewed interest in humans after the recent events, Alphys asked if she could take the comic to "study their culture"

Might have been a mistake, she hasn't shut up about the damn thing all day. 

2nd July.

Asgore told me a sad little anecdote from the palace over Chara's latest checkup. He'd told Chara about the barrier, how they were trapped forever. And they'd hugged his knees and wept in thanks.

I...I want to hate this child. They're human, them and their kind are why I sleep alone. But in the face of those big sad eyes...I just can't. It's like my hate drains away every time I see them.

I can see Papyrus and Sans discussing it. San is cagey, he remembers the war, even if the memories might be slightly fuzzy with time, but Papyrus remembers nothing, chattering about the human happily.

At least...I think he remembers nothing. Sometimes I see him go strangely still, staring at the cloth he was wrapped in when he first came to me, now worn as a fluttering red cape. Does he remember his mother, perhaps? He was only a baby, how much can he recall? 

30th September

Checked up on Chara. Physically, they're recovering well. Mentally...I'm not too sure. They huddle into themselves whenever they can, cringing back from the lightest touch. Asriel seems to have taken a shine to them, doing his best to bring the human out of their shell. I think these are wounds I can't heal. Only time can do that.

14th October

Went down to the palace today to drop of Charas vitamin prescription. A lot of medical manuals for humans drop down in the dump. I take care with these, unwanted text books are most likely out of date, but I've been able to synthesize a mixture of what every book seems to agree is important for a sick child.

I found Asgore and Toriel peering around the door to the throne room, and was hushed into silence as I approached, the pair smiling as broadly as the day Asriel was born.

In the throne room there are always birds, tiny scraps of life that fly through the Barrier and cannot escape. Toriel sets aside breadcrumbs for them, and they've recognized Asriel as someone who won't harm them. Often they'll perch on his head even when he has no food to offer, following him around the garden as he helps his father weed. Him and Chara were kneeling in a bed of bluebells, hands full of breadcrumbs as hungry birds perched everywhere they could on Asriel. Chara had eyes like saucers, I don't think they've ever seen birds this close before. In the golden artificial light, it was a scene that was almost...holy, Asriel smiling like the old human religious images of saints as he moved with the gentleness he inherited from his father, guiding birds into Charas hands carefully. I wonder what it was like for the child, exploding into this world of light and colour and soft hands? No wonder they seem shell shocked, gazing around as though they've only just opened their eyes for the first time.

I wonder what the king and queen will do? 

21st October

There has been an announcement from the Palace today.

Chara has been officially adopted into the royal family.

Whatever name they carried before they came here is gone. Now they are Chara Dreemur.

I finally put my finger on that emotion I was feeling in the underground earlier.

Hope.

 _Hope._

I never thought I'd feel it again. It's like a tiny, fragile moth fluttering in my ribcage, the smallest spark, so easily snuffed, yet holding on. Human lives are so short, what's 90 years or so to the average monster? 90 years more, then a soul to set us free. The king was talking in his speech about "Peace in our time" and "A bridge between worlds".

Peace between monsters and humans... Do they deserve our mercy? I look at Chara and what was done to them and wonder... 

1st November

The Core will be complete soon. It's been universally decided by the workers that we'll be keeping The Core as its name, everyone got used to it. I've taken care to quickly put it on the official documents before Asgore asks to name it and we wind up with "The power building" or something.

I estimate a few more months before the entire underground is lit. 

5th November

Papyrus boldly approached me today with a handful of badly, if earnestly drawn blueprints. I had mentioned in passing a while back we would need to think of adding puzzles to the Core soon. They can be a pain, but they are also our birthright, an ancient and noble tradition.

The blueprints were a mess, but the puzzles were amazing! I've helped him tidy them up so the builders can read them, and sent him along with a letter stating he's been put in charge of this endevour.

Everyone has something they're good at, a skill they were born to use. There is no greater tragedy then someone reaching the end of their life without finding out what their soul burns to do, fishers who could have made paintings that sang to the world never touching a paintbrush, a janitor who could have written novels that seared across a soul never being given the chance to find out.

Sans has found his skill in science, Papyrus has his puzzles.

And his kindness. 

16th November.

Spent half an hour trying to get into the office they built for me in the Core. Might need to have a word to Papyrus about not putting them EVERYWHERE.

I'm not even going to talk about the epic struggle needed to get a cup of coffee from the machine. 

19th November.

Alphys has taken an interest in human souls lately, trying to determine through theory alone ways they might be used to break the barrier without the full seven. She's been producing essay after essay on the nature of Determination. I shut down her request to build a machine to extract it, however. We only have one human soul here and we aren't going to put little Chara in harms way. 

22nd November

 _No Alphys I am not going to watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie with you._

2nd October.

First test run with the Core today. The King and his children arrived to oversee. Chara is improving in leaps and bounds. They still cling to Asgores robes in public, but they're much more animated, peering around at everything with real interest. Physically, they're in perfect shape, they had an examination last week, and I'm confident they can recover quickly in the mental department. Asriel is usually filled with curiosity about the rising Core, but he chose to hang back and hold Charas hand today. The two seem very close. The test run went well, apart from a few blown fuses in some of the sectors. Easily repaired and we can see where we went wrong. With any luck, the official opening should go smoothly. 

31st October

Halloween night. The boys are both too old to participate in trick or treating now, so they commandeered the candy bowl at the door. I was rather surprised to hear Papyrus loudly greeting the prince, however. He's usually too shy to take part, but there he was, hand in hand with Chara. The two had been bolstering each others confidence, by the looks of it. It was terribly hard not to laugh though. Asriel had been forward thinking enough to let Toriel make his ladybug costume by the looks of it, but Chara had evidently tried to be independent with theirs. The cardboard horns on their Boss Monster costume were already tattered and drooping and the purple robes were clearly an old bathtowel. There was a wavering confidence on their face as they held the bag up, however, and I refrained from commenting. 

6th December.

Construction of the Core has been halted for the holiday season, so me and the boys are packing in advance for Snowdin. We're going to have another crack at camping (note to self, sturdier footwear) so I'll be leaving the diary behind to prevent more damage. 

17th December

Papyrus slipped on an icy path and gave himself concussion, so we're home early. I don't think camping is really for us, next year we'll book a room in the Inn as usual... 

10th January

Urgent summons to the Palace today. I assumed it was another sprained ankle, like the time Chara and Asriel were horsing around on the stairs, but when I opened the door Toriel greeted me in hysterics. Asgore was groaning in agony on his bed, clutching at his stomach. His magic was running haywire, trying to fix whatever was broken in him. It was a tricky piece of healing magic to stabilize it. Afterwards, I poked around the house as Toriel tended to her exhausted husband, trying to find the source. A strange smelling pie and a careful questioning of two very quiet children revealed the cause. It seems they had been trying to make butterscotch cinnamon pie like their mother, and misread the instructions, using buttercups instead of butter. A lovely flower, buttercups, but very very poisonous for monsters and humans alike. Asriel was a mess of tears, but Chara simply laughed, stating confidently that they knew Asgore would be alright anyway. An odd reaction, until I noticed the glimmer of terror in their eyes. It seems they use laughter as a coping mechanism to distract from things they find frightening. The poor thing must have thought they were going to be brutally punished for this. It was an innocent and childish mistake. There will be no punishment for it. 

19th January

Tomorrow the Core will be officially opened. We've tested and retested, Alphys has personally checked every computer system in the complex 3 times. Everyone is exhausted, we've been going flat out lately trying to finish this. Even Sans has been putting in long hours, notoriously work shy as he is. (with one hit point, who can blame him?) I'm very proud of the effort my children have put in, but so jittery as well. I've got my entire career riding on the success of this... 

20th January

Hurrah!

Gods my hands are still shaking, I've spent the whole day a bundle of nerves. I was twitching all through the opening ceremony as Asgore was led to the switch that would start it up and carefully pulled it to the on position...

And it turned on beautifully. Not even a hiccup, which is a bloody miracle. This thing is extremely temperamental at the best of times. Gods I thought I was going to faint for a while there. I barely registered Asgore shaking my hand. He's still walking slowly and carefully after the pie incident. Toriel tells me his stomach is still very tender. The children looked better though. Especially Chara. They looked a lot more relaxed now, more like a happy child should. I hope they remember this day. It's very rare a child has a ring side seat to the making of history.

I've found a quiet corner to update my diary as the after party goes on. I enjoy company, but it wears on me after a while. I can hear Sans rattling off more puns from here, the lads in his element. I don't have words to express how proud I am of my children. They've come so far since the day they came to me. 

4th April

Asgore and Toriel had business today and asked me to babysit the children. Not a difficult task, the two are quite well behaved when they want to be. The pair were quite content to doodle with crayons on the floor of the lab. Asriel kept rabbiting on about his "OC", something about a god of hyperdeath and how "cool and badass etc" he was. Chara just drew golden flowers. I recognize them from the shape of the petals. Mt Ebott daisies. Very rare, they only grow on the area surrounding Mt Ebott. I wonder if Chara is slightly homesick? 

2nd February

A small white dog ran off with my diary about a year ago after Papyrus left the door open. Asgore found it buried in his garden and was kind enough to return it to me. Its a little dirty and chewed on, but its still savable. 

14th February

Came across Chara in waterfall today. Asriel wasn't there, which was somewhat unusual. The two are usually joined at the hip, but it seemed Chara wanted to be alone today, loitering on the edge of a group of monster children as Gerson told them of our history. Today he told the story of the great war, how monsters lost the battle and were forced underground. He's a masterful storyteller. It was as though I was there again, the cold in my bones, the ache in my starved body...

I was forced from my unpleasant introspection when Chara suddenly spoke up.

And they weren't happy.

I have never seen a child so angry at injustice before, as they howled their rage at humanity for locking us away. "it isn't fair!" was thrown around quite liberally. They vomited fury and hatred at the human race, face red and fists clenched as they screamed. In the end I had to step in before they upset the other children, gently leading the steaming mad child back home and trying my best to soothe them. We had a good long talk on the way to the palace about the importance of not letting anger devour you. It's natural to feel rage as a part of grief and sadness, but, and this is important, you have to learn when to let it go. Let the fury be a tidal wave and crash over you. And then let it sweep on and pass.

I don't know if my talk helped. They were silent as I explained their little outburst to their parents. Somehow, I don't think Toriels promise of extra pie is going to help this. I found some books on child psychology in the dump. A little outdated, but I wonder if I can work out some helpful therapy for them? God knows they need it, who knows how long they've carried that hate in them? They always seemed so happy here... 

17th February

Went to the palace today to discuss my plan for Chara with the king. I was very pleased to see Chara was in a better mood, whispering in Asriels ears on a bed of buttercups as the King weeded his roses. They stopped as I entered and looked innocent. Ah, childhood. I wonder what pretend shenanigans they were up to that they felt the need to hide from adults? Maybe the location of a secret comic book stash or something, whatever children these days like.

The king liked my idea very much. Naturally, he knows more of his adopted child then I do, and Chara's deep seated anger is no secret to him. It's important we can find ways to help this child. They are the future of humans and monsters, the foundation of our hopes and dreams. We must care for them as best we can. I will start writing up plans for Charas therapy tonight. After all, as a doctor I have a duty to ensure my patients well being, mind as well as body. 

22nd January

Called to the Palace tonight. Chara had a gut ache, whimpering gently as I examined them. Looks like the silly little thing ate too much pie. I gave them a tonic and left it at that, they'll be find in the morning. 

23rd January.

Hmm. Troubling. Chara was still sick the next morning. My tonic hadn't helped at all. Perhaps Chara has developed food allergies? Apparently humans can do that. Or is it food poisoning? No, monster food doesn't spoil.

I've given them some painkillers for now while I try and see what may be done. 

24th January

Chara is worse. They've begun to develop blisters over their hands and mouth, screaming if they're so much as moved. The cheerful confidence of the royal couple that Chara would bounce back is beginning to wane as the child shrinks into their pillow. Asriel is a devoted caretaker to his sibling. The boy is never far from their side, bringing them anything they ask for. Such a good brother... 

26th January

I've moved into the palace for the duration, leaving Sans to run the household. Chara can't be far away from a doctor right now.

Chara...gods...

They just keep declining...They can't keep food down, can't be touched without pain, they just...bleed...from everywhere...

I'm going mad sifting through my textbooks for a match in their symptoms. I'm throwing everything I have at them, every cure, herbal or modern I can think of. Nothing is working, why are human bodies so _complicated?_

27th January

They're raving, lost in a fever dream as their exhausted parents try and keep them cool. They started babbling about flowers, pleading to see the flowers in their village one last time.

But there is nothing we can do.

Please don't die, Chara. You are our future... 

28th January

Went into New Home Market for supplies today. Gods, the whole city is silent as the grave, the royal childs health the only topic on anyones lips as monsters all over the underground gossip in hushed tones. I can feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me.

I feel sick.

Nothing is working. 

29th January

Toriels eyes are so dull. Asgore is drifting around the palace like a ghost.

What do I do? 

30th January

 _I failed them I failed themIfailedthemI FAILED I FAILED I LOST THEM I FAILED_

…

…

 _I'm so sorry..._


	10. Chapter 10

6th February

The first time I've been able to get out of bed since...since. Even so, my hand moves like lead across the page.

Both of them.

Not just Chara.

 _Both of them._

I tried. I tried so hard. As my medicines failed and Chara's heart began slowing I abandoned science altogether, pouring so much healing magic into them my own health began to deplete. Asgore dragged me away before I became dust. I fought him as he pulled me back, I kicked and screamed. This child was our future.

And all I could do was watch them die.

Even that wasn't the end of it. As they died, their soul pulled free of its moorings, rising into the air like a tiny piece of red glass, small and fragile and beautiful. And little Asriel reached for it, loyal little Asriel who had never left his siblings side. At first, as I called a warning to his parents, I thought he was just entranced, but I swear, there was a knowing look in his eyes. Did the two of them plan this as Chara lay sick? Impossible, I was seeing things.

I saw many things.

Like what Asriel became.

He was so bright I could barely look at him, throbbing with power, horns curling back stronger and more impressive then even his fathers. It was almost funny to see a being like that in Asriels striped shirt, a god in cargo pants.

And then he reached for Chara's body.

As one, me and the royal family knew what he was doing. Hadn't we stood by helplessly as Chara had begged to see the yellow flowers of their town?

Asriel was taking them home.

We reached out, we called, we tried to stop them. In my panic and grief, I even attempted to tackle the boy. I didn't even slow him down. He turned and looked at me with eyes like sad little suns, and waved a hand, magic pinning me to a wall as gently as a breeze.

I couldn't stop him going through the barrier. I couldn't do anything. My second greatest failure.

After Asgore helped me down, all we could do was wait. What would the humans think, seeing something like what Asriel had become walking down from the mountains with a childs corpse in his arms? They'd attack him on sight!

And they did.

It was hours before he came back through the barrier, and it took one look to know there was nothing I could do for him, gouges that sent a chill down my spine marring his fur, and holes from that weapon they call a "gun" all down his back.

He lived long enough to gasp out the story of what happened to him, then died in the garden, dust sparkling on the buttercups like stars.

I knew the royal family didn't blame me, but when I went home, head bowed, the disgrace weighing on my heart was mine.

From the window, I hear nothing. The city is quiet. Even my children walk softly, speaking in hushed tones when they speak at all.

The palace is silent and dark. 

7th February

I heard footsteps outside my window at the dead of night. I risked a quick glance, to see a large hooded figure slipping though the deserted streets. They were holding a still, child sized figure.

They were crying.

Something bad has happened. I know it. 

8th February

There was an address to the public today.

It was like nothing I have ever seen.

Asgore leaned over the balcony of the palace and screamed...bile. His face was distorted by grief and anger, I barely recognized him as our calm and gentle king.

The other monsters around us hung on his words. Their hearts were just as broken as his, everyone had loved the children, and humanity had taken them from us.

But as Asgore swore that any human that fell here would die, I felt a cold shudder in my soul. I was not the only one afraid. My children are growing. Sans is more of an adult now, growing firmly independent, and Papyrus is nearing the end of high school. Yet both of them slipped their hands into mine, eyes rooted on the brooding figure hunched like a gargoyle above them as they clung tight to me.

I held them back. These are dark times. 

10th February

A palace servant woke me at midnight tonight, dragging me desperately to the palace. I was terrified at first. Was he angry with my failures? Would I be punished?

No.

When I stepped into the garden my chest froze into ice.

It was gone.

Everything Asgore had put centuries into growing was torn out, the pride and joy of the Dreemurrs a mess of trampled petals and twisted dirt. The bluebells, the buttercups, the bright little camellias, everything. All gone. In the middle of the devastation, Asgore was hunched besides Toriels empty throne.

He'd torn out the roses by hand. Thorns were gouged deep in his palms, the golden ichor that ran as blood through monsters dripping in a steady stream.

When he turned to me, his mismatched eyes were empty and dull. He'd burned his rage away.

As I bandaged his hands he hesitantly told me what had happened, how a midnight visit to his garden to sooth him had inflamed his rage at his loss, how Toriel was no longer there to comfort him and how the garden seemed to taunt him, something so beautiful in the middle of his despair. For a few moments, he'd despised his lifes work, and those few moments were all he needed to crush it.

By the end, he was openly weeping in my arms as I tried not to be crushed under his prodigious weight. Seeing our king like this...It's like the world has turned upside down.

What do we do? 

12th February

Went back to work today. My co workers were respectfully silent, which I was grateful for.

Spent the day staring at my desk. Inspiration just won't come. 

13th February

Everything seems grey. 

15th February

Papyrus is struggling. He's optimistic by nature, and is trying so hard to cheer me and his brother up while balancing his own grief. I try to put a brave face on for his sake, but it just...doesn't come easily. I hear him crying sometimes, where he thinks we can't see.

He loved the royal children as much as we did. 

17th February

Another wasted day. Every time I try to work on something I just see Chara's pale face.

I should be walking through New Home like a giant. I built the Core, my greatest triumph. I am immortal in the history books as the Monster who lit the underground.

Instead I feel like a failure, every time I stumble across one of the little comic book caches the royal children hid around the underground. 

20th February

Someone made a memorial for the two in Waterfall. A little statue sheltering a music box. Every time I walk past and hear that tinkling song I think of them. There are flowers under its feet. I add a few whenever I can.

I'm sorry, children.

I did my best. 

5th March

An order from the palace came this morning. The king wants two things, a storage system for human souls as they are...harvested, and something to study them so we can experiment with other ways of breaking the barrier.

Me, Alphys and Sans have been toying with a few ideas for soul storage since.

Well, they are, anyway. My inventors block is still a burden, but I give advice when needed. 

7th March

Is this some kind of illness? Every time I try to get some work done, its like a door slams shut in my head. I can achieve nothing useful, nothing important.

I suspect its in my head, something to do with my guilt at Chara's loss. Asriel cuts deep, yes, but there was nothing I could do there, the humans wounds were too terrible. But Chara...I could have done something! Their symptoms were maddeningly familiar! If I'd just worked a little harder, maybe they would still be alive.

I could have stopped this.

I could have done something... 

9th March

Papyrus has stopped hiding his grief. It's a terrible thing, to see someone as happy as him so miserable. He's such a sensitive soul, theres no doubt he can pick up on the atmosphere of purest despair that pervades the underground. It's hard to stay cheerful in times like this. I comfort him when I can. 

15th March.

Someone at work made a remark about missing Toriels pie now that she's vanished. For some reason, that word is sticking in my subconscious, something about it is important, connecting to Chara. Pie, and flowers. But those are just nice things to enjoy on a lazy day, how can they connect to...

…

The flowers.

Buttercups.

The children made pie with buttercups.

I told them...

I told them...

That buttercups were poisonous...

Chara's symptoms were the same as Asgores! I never noticed because theirs were stronger then his! Chara was smaller, of course it would strike harder!

...this was on purpose...that knowing look on Asriels face as he took Chara's soul...they knew...they'd planned this...Chara...they...

They killed themselves...

How can I not have seen this?

Asgore can never know this, no one can. It would destroy him utterly. 

16th March.

I remember seeing the children often using a cam corder. I felt a suspicion they might have taped some evidence. While pretending I needed to check an ill cleaner, I had a surreptitious poke around the palace. I found a few tapes the children had made, discussing their...plan. I couldn't bring myself to destroy or steal them, so I shoved them away in an out of place cupboard. Hopefully no one would ever find them.

Theres a golden flower growing in the ruins of the garden. It looks well tended. 

5th April.

My mental block shifted slightly, allowing me to make a few notes regarding some form of studying souls. If I had one to look at, I could make more progress, but I don't think that will happen in my lifetime.

No human will come here again. 

8th April.

The underground is so different from what I remember. The despair has gone from something sharp and aching to just...another fact of life. People carry on as they always have, carrying the knowledge that they will die in the dark everywhere they go. Sans has always tended towards melancholy, and its worse now. Some days he can barely get out of bed, which I sympathize with. I have days like that too. We encourage each other with the newly invented "texting" function Alphys upgraded our phones with last month, pushing each other to get up and carry on.

Papyrus on the outside seems happier, but his family knows better. Theres a sadness in his eyes, compounded by deep loneliness. Me and Sans are really his only friends. As much as he fakes it with his exuberant enthusiasm in his puzzles, we know its mostly an act. 

11th April.

A young fish monster arrived at my doorstep seeking treatment for her bruises. As I worked she explained she'd been trying to pick a fight with Asgore. There's an anger in her eyes, a tension about her. Not all monsters turned to despair at our loss. Some forged their grief into rage, rage at anything and everything about this world that's taken so much from us. Come to think of it, her name is familiar. Undyne...I've been hearing a lot of complaints. She fights near everyone who crosses her path. Asgore would have been an unpleasant shock to her, for his fluffy nature, he's a formidable foe.

Still, she was very cheerful about it all. He's invited her to train with him at the palace. I did hear he was planning a royal guard. Definitely a better use of her time then making the commute through Waterfall that much more challenging. 

2nd June.

A human has fallen down. 

4th June.

The human is dead.

…

She was 6.

Asgore brought the soul to my lab for storage. His hands were trembling. The blood he tracked into the carpet wouldn't wash out. 

9th June.

The soul canisters Alphys and Sans designed work well. As I work on the blue prints for something to examine souls. I keep hers on my desk. It's blue. A patient little soul. Sometimes it glows, illuminating my work. I despise humanity now, but...children are always hard to see die. I apologize to her on occasion. Can she hear me? Does she understand? 

11th June

A minor breakthrough.

All souls have traits, human souls strongest of all: Patience, bravery, integrity, perseverance, kindness, justice and determination. Chara, poor child, was Determination positive, that being the strongest trait they had. All humans have a mix of these traits to some extent, but determination seems special. It seems to lead to a stronger soul, the humans who made the seal were all Determination Positive. I've drawn up blueprints for a machine to extract it, and other traits from a soul without damaging it in order to study closely, but determination is my main point of interest. Alphys seems very interested in this as well.

She's a good assistant, if a little scatter brained. She has a tendency to rush things, too. 

13th June.

Dear sweet god! I _cannot_ let determination extraction continue.

I did the math, if, as Alphys was hypothesizing, we injected determination into monsters to make the soul stronger, the bodies would overload catastrophically. The results would be horrific. I've locked the blueprints in my personal safe and told her that avenue of study was closed. My word is law around the lab, she knows that well. No, the results are clear. No matter how I do the math, it always comes back to one thing.

The DT extractor will not work.

We will have to take the souls the hard way.

I only hope our king is strong enough to cope.

Still, looking at the bright little scrap of sky floating in its containment tube, as disgusted with myself as I am to say it...it is kind of hopeful. We need 7, and knowing we have one gives hope that some day there will be others. I can feel it in the streets, a slight buzz cutting through the ever present misery, a tang of excitement in the air.

Are we willing to sell our collective souls to achieve the sky?


	11. Chapter 11

21st July.

I found a small reminder of Chara clearing out my clothes cabinet today. A white turtleneck they made me for christmas last year. Its slightly misshapen and completely the wrong size, and from what Toriel told me, wasn't meant to be a turtleneck at all in the first place. Chara got stuck on the neck. At the time I had smiled and thanked them politely and worn it once to make them happy before tossing it in the cabinet. Now the sight of it brought tears to my sockets.

I wore it to work the next day.

No one commented. 

3rd August.

Asgore sent a message to the lap today. He wants a weapon. A weapon...gods, the entire concept of our king asking for a weapon of war is almost obscene. The design specs were simple, something a monster could attach to their natural attacks and summon at will.

Hmm...

I might have a few ideas there, actually... 

7th August.

Right. The first basic blueprints have been drawn up for his requested weapon. It's fairly complicated, requiring a sample of the specific magical essence of each monster, as I call it, MNA. The details are in my work journals. I like to keep my work and home life separate. I've set up the required programs. Tomorrow I'll be creating the first prototypes.

With my essence. 

8th August.

The experiment went well. The result came out as something of a spell, easily absorbed by the soul. I can feel it burning slightly as it takes hold, unpleasant, but not uncomfortable. Sans and Papyrus seem very interested in my experiment. 

9th August

A successful implantation. This afternoon I was able to summon alongside my normal bone attacks some...thing...like an animal skull. It's...living yet not, a part of me yet something other. It's quite devastating, its beam (breath weapon? Something like that) reducing a training dummy to ash. The resident ghost was _quite_ peeved and gave me an earful before leaving in a huff.

My children have requested to be part of this experiment.

I...can't see a problem with this, actually. It was successful, and might be useful. They are old enough, after all. I've taken samples of their magic to work with. 

11th August.

Another human. Another soul. A glowing orange soul joins the little blue one.

Another child as well...why always children...? 

12th August.

Implanted the weapons into Sans and Papyrus today. Considering Sans's fragile nature I anesthetized him first, approaching the procedure as I would a delicate surgery. Papyrus was a lot easier with his tough constitution. I should feel guilty using my children as control tests, but I find I don't. I tested first on myself with no ill effects, and they both understand the rule of bodily autonomy. They can quit at any time. Tomorrow I will test their attacks.

Some wag in the break room dubbed them Gaster Blasters yesterday and now I can't make that name unstick. 

13th August.

A successful test. I gained a lot of data on the "gaster blasters" (might as well, everyone else is calling it that.) Interestingly, they aren't just weapons, but seem to express the personality types of the soul they are bound to. Mine are somewhat shy and prone to be distracted. It can be an effort to call them over to attack the dummies if theres something they consider interesting in the room to examine.

Papyrus's put me in mind of the newly formed Canine Squad, bouncy, energetic and playful.

And even more deadly then mine. When Papyrus really wants to, his blasters can put a hole in the wall. The thing is, most of the time, he just doesn't want to. The really deadly shot was just him showing off. When faced with a dummy, he will produce a beam that is damaging, but not excessively. The boy has excellent control, focusing his attacks with great precision. If he wants to, he can attack for only one hitpoint precisely. I have to imagine, though...what would it be like to see him when he really wants to hurt something...lucky for whoever might face him he's far too good natured for that.

Sans can only attack for one hitpoint anyway, no matter how hard he tries. His blasters are colder, more standoffish. Like cats.

Especially the way they knock cups to the floor in full sight of you, the little blighters. 

15th August.

I made the blaster for Asgore. I'll bring him in to attach it to his soul tomorrow. 

16th August.

A failure.

Not the blaster itself. It bound to Asgores soul very well, a magnificent leonine head.

It does no damage.

None.

I looked over my notes and found the answer.

A monsters magic is an extension of their soul, everything that makes the monster who they are. Their attacks are an expression of themselves and their mood.

Asgore was able to kill the last two humans with fire magic, something that can be easily summoned for many purposes, plus he doesn't use aimed attacks, directing his fire in blind sweeps.

A gaster blaster, on the other hand, must be directly summoned and focused for the use of attacking and nothing else. Asgore can't do it. He can summon it just fine, but he can't bring himself to hurt anyone with it, standing sheepishly in the centre of a ring of untouched dummies. His attack is impressive to watch, but does nothing but send a wave of warm air over the target.

While technically a success, this experiment was a failure in what it set out to do, provide a quick and painless death to any humans falling.

I recalled the blaster from his soul and apologized. 

4th October

There is a human working their way through the underground.

They are wrecking havoc.

They have a gun. 

5th October.

 _It almost got me..._

It caught me passing through the Core with my groceries, initiating a battle before I could react.

A yellow soul.

Justice.

This child thinks of themselves as a hero, righting the wrongs of the evil monsters. I looked into its eyes and could see only cold anger.

I cowered and fled the battle.

I'm a scientist, not a warrior.

I hope its caught soon. It was caked in dust. 

6th October.

Its dead. It ran out of bullets during the battle with Asgore. I just finished treating his wounds. So many died at its hands, everywhere you go, theres dust. There are memorials and funerals everywhere you go. The yellow soul responsible sits on my desk as a paperweight. It's easier for me to hate them when they have dust on their hands. 

19th October.

We have a new captain of the guard. Undyne has finished her training under Asgore. She looks a lot more focused these days, more grown up. I think she'll do well. 

23rd March.

My diary slipped down between the couch cushions. It's been a long time since then, quite a few years. Time seems to pass differently for us, such a long time doesn't feel so long for monsters.

There has been one more child since then, the dark blue of integrity. It was caught in waterfall, dragged to the palace by Undyne herself. They say the child sobbed the whole way there. The souls are now stored at the palace. I have no further use for them. Papyrus has finished high school. He doesn't yet know what he want's to be, and I don't push him. He'll be what he chooses. For now he works on his puzzles at the core. Sans is my new assistant. He's talented enough that he could be a researcher right off the bat, but we both feel his coworkers will give him more credibility if he doesn't get the job through what might be perceived as nepotism. Now all I need to do is find a way to stop him sneaking off to the broom closet for a nap every ten minutes... 

4th August

I fear I'm approaching a slump. What is left to create? What is left to invent? I've built the core, revamped the radio, the music player, the television, countless devices that make our lives more tolerable. What is left besides just tinkering? 

12th August

Another human. I saw a glimpse of it running out of the tem village. Small and shy looking, peering out from behind immense thick glasses. It saw me in the distance and screamed, disappearing into the long grass before I could react. 

15th August

Another soul.

This one lasted longer this time. They were careful and quiet. Their soul was purple. Perseverance. I should feel glad. They killed a few monsters on the way to the palace. But witnesses say they fought only to defend themselves, and the memory of that terrified scream won't leave me alone. 

1st September

Papyrus gave me a gift today, a book he found in the dump and dried out for me.

A Brief History of Time, with a picture of a sickly looking human on the back cover, possibly the author. He said it had looked "sciency". I'm always up for new ideas, giving it a flick through can't hurt. 

4th September.

 _Time. That's the answer to my creative funk._

 _TIME._

6th September

Hmm..this is quite the knotty problem. Creating a working time machine could take me months, years even. Sans found the notebook I'd been working in, and naturally insisted on joining in.

That could work. He's proving himself quickly. And even if it fails, father-son bonding time is never wasted. 

9th September

These equations are giving me a headache.

Finally! I've been aching for a real challenge!

Sans is working on something for a practice run, something he calls "a dimensional box", something to keep things safe in any dimension. He's stored a copy of his diary and an old childhood drawing, small important keepsakes. It's a nice idea, could be useful. 

17th December.

Snowdin town is still quiet this year. They say it was hit quite hard by the child with the yellow soul. There is still a pall of grief over the place.

Our holiday was quite subdued. 

1st January

New years seem less painful these days.

I still dream of her, though. 

3rd May

I was forced to ground Papyrus today, after he made a remark at dinner about hoping the next child would fall soon so he can try surface food. It's not the kind of thing he'd say on his own, he must have picked it up somewhere. Regardless, we are dealing with the loss of life here. Living beings must die for our freedom, its nothing to be joked over. I gave him a sharp lecture and sent him to his room in tears. A harsh punishment, but we cannot allow ourselves to sink into the depths of celebrating the death of children. 

5th September

Slow progress on the time machine. It's the fiddliest task I've ever had to work through. Me and Sans have been discussing what it might be used for. How far back can it go? Can we go back to before Chara became ill and warn Asgore his child was hurting deeper then they knew, and to tear every trace of buttercups from the palace?

Or can we go...further back?

Can we stop the war?

Can I...

Can I have her back?

Of course, to do this would mean I would never have met Sans and Papyrus, and I can see in his eyes Sans knows this too. It was a rather melancholy discussion as we mulled this over. As I have grown to love Sans as my son, so he has grown to love me as a father. He remembers his true family as being loving and warm, but he has known me for longer. His memories of them are hazy.

And I am all Papyrus has ever known.

Even so, we both knew the choice we would make if this was successful.

The happiness of one family is not as important as the happiness of a kingdom.

I love Sans very much, but we are aching here. 

4th June, one year later.

The sixth human...gods, why do you torture me so? I didn't need this...

I'd heard rumours for days, about a human making their way through Snowdin. The stories were different. No hushed, fearful whispers, but warm anecdotes of a round faced child smiling benevolently in the face of all attacks. I'd brushed off the stories, I don't like thinking about the humans we must kill. I avoid them if I can.

This one came to me.

I'd made the mistake of resting on my way home in waterfall, taking in the glow of the crystals. I thought nothing of the child greeting me. I'm well known and well liked.

Until I turned my head.

It was the human, a plump, red faced little boy. Sat on the bench next to me as bold as brass and started talking my ear off.

Tom.

That was his name.

Tom.

It won't stop ringing in my ears.

He'd gone to the foot of the mountain with his family for a picnic and got lost picking mushrooms. Kept going on about how he was going to cook them and how much he enjoyed cooking and was I a skeleton that used to be a dead thing or was I always a skeleton and how did the bartender in Snowdin work how did he not go out-?

And so on.

Everything about him glowed with good nature. He wasn't just asking for curiosities sake, he genuinely wanted to know me.

I took a stealthy glance at his soul.

Green.

Kindness.

No matter how sharp or dismissive my responses, he kept going, a relentless force of gentleness. The running theme of the conversation was how badly he wanted to go home and how much his family would worry. There is only one entrance to the barrier.

Through the throne room.

No matter what happens, he must face Asgore in the end.

I wound up giving him directions to the palace. His fate was sealed the minute he landed here. All I can do is ensure his end happens quickly.

Before he left he hugged my knees, the only part he could reach. It sliced at my heart like razors.

I'm sorry, Tom. 

8th June

He's dead.

He's dead.

I thought I was beyond crying for the children who fall here.

I'm so so sorry, Tom.

One more left.

One more lamb to the slaughter. 

10th June.

Heh...Ironic, isn't it? Even as my soul is crushed within me, hope is rising like a steady tide amongst the other members of the underground.

"King Asgore will free us."

"King Asgore will save us."

"He will destroy the humans."

Everywhere I go, I cannot escape the whispers.

It disgusts me to my core. I've banned my sons from talking about anything to do with souls or the barrier in my house. These are children, small lost children. No matter how many monsters they take with them out of fear or ignorance.

They are young.

They know no better.

As I wilt under the weight of grief, I feel for Asgore. The kings burden is ten times heavier then mine. His anger is long since drained. All he wants to do is tend the profusion of yellow flowers that has taken over his garden.

But his peoples hopes are so strong...

He cannot leave them to despair now.

I think...there is a grain of cowardice in Asgore. I don't judge him, we're none of us perfect. But he has the souls, he can go through the barrier now with one and obtain the souls we need quickly.

I think...he doesnt want to go through with the war he promised.

He's a king of gardens and tea. He's no blood soaked conqueror. 

16th July

We've hit a good pace with the time machine. I've basically handed over running the core to my underlings bar a few routine visits, so I have plenty of time. We work well in tandem, Sans pouring over the mathematics, something of a strong point of his, and I, with my summoned hands, work on the physical construction. Already we can see the shape of what it will become.

( _The entries for the next few years are badly scorched, the following is the earliest that can be deciphered.)_

4th February

There will be no time machine.

Yesterday it was complete. Yesterday we had the mathematics done.

And yesterday I almost lost my son.

We thought we knew time inside and out.

In our arrogance and naivety, we were as children trying to hold back the raging tide with a dam of pebbles, flailing like monkeys around something no mortal mind can comprehend.

We switched it on, hearts pounding with eager curiosity...

And something crucial in the ( _unintelligible)_ snapped.

If Sans hadn't brought his shields up, he would have been blasted to dust. As it was, he was a microsecond too slow, losing 0.5 of a hitpoint.

And the sight in his right eye. He can no longer flare his magic through it either.

Even as I tried my best to heal his injury, he was insisting he could fix the time machine, fighting my decision to end the project here. As I write these I can hear Papyrus fussing over him, the poor boy worried sick at his brothers state. Sans isn't talking to me, still coldly furious that I would throw away years of work. I think he will be angry for a long time. But there is no other choice.

Time is not to be meddled with.

He still misses his mother...

I still miss Helvatica...

But they are in the past. All that is in the past. Our future lies before us, all we can do is move on. We never forget the ones we love, but they never really leave us. Their memories are a part of us, making us who we are. I miss her, I always will. But I have the memory of her love to hold forever, that will never change.

I nearly lost much today, instead, I have gained something I thought I'd never see.

Peace. 

14th February

Sans is still not talking to me. He skulks around the core throwing filthy glances at me whenever I walk in. And regrettably, it being maintenance month, we are constantly around each other.

Nothing I can do about it for now. He'll heal.

Maintenance wise, nothing too bad considering the cores volatile nature. Though the floor around the main energy pit needs some chicken wire nailed down for grip or something. It's too slippery.

While I was there, I did something I had been meaning to do ever since my recent epiphany.

Today I took her scarf from my chest for the first time in centuries, now a dusty, fading relic. I wore it once, just for today, just to remember.

Then gently dropped it in a lava flow on the way home.

It's time to let her go.

It's time to move on.

I'm old, but not that old, I have plenty of life left in me. Why waste it in grieving?

I love you, Helvatica. One day, we'll meet again. But I am alive now. I must remember that.


	12. Chapter 12

- _Excerpt from the Diary of Sans Serif-_

 _Huh...weird day. Woke up this morning feeling like...something was gone. Like someone had died. But thats crazy talk, I mean, its always just been us! Always just been me and Papyrus!_

 _Right?_

 _...Right?_

 _..._

 _Papyrus started crying at dinner. Just, right outta nowhere, bawling like an infant. Took him half an hour to calm down enough to tell me he felt like someone he loved had gone, but he didn't know who._

 _It should be madness, but..._

 _I'm grieving too._

 _I'm grieving and I don't know why. There's a hole in my heart that I can't explain._

 _Worst part is, theres this feeling like I was...mad at someone? And now they're gone it hurts, because I never made up with them. When I woke up, there were tears on my pillow, I could still remember my dream._

 _Someone was falling._

 _They were screaming._

 _Theres a machine in the basement I don't remember seeing, blueprints I can't read. Theres a feeling every time I look at them like I know this font, I was once used to this font._

 _But its just weird symbols now._

 _The machine is broken. I don't think it can be fixed._

 _Papyrus remembers being read to every night._

 _I didn't do that._

 _He has so many books._

 _I didn't buy them._

 _This house...it's a nice house, we used to love it, but now it just...hurts._

 _We spoke tonight before bed, once Papyrus had calmed down._

 _We're leaving New Home._

 _Don't know where to, yet. Snowdin sounds good. Makes me feel happy when I hear the name, same for Papyrus._

 _Neither of us know why, but we do._

 _We'll start packing tomorrow, the less time we spend here the better, everything is too weird._

 _I can see a huge structure from my window, and I know its called the Core._

 _Seeing it makes me feel cold inside._

 _Yea, Snowdin. Nice and far away from that damn steel monolith._

 _Theres a box near the weird machine in the basement with a fancy lock on it, little details that tell me I made it. It feels strange to the touch, and theres things in it. I'll work away at the lock and see whats in it later, might be important._

 _..._

 _To whoever I forgot...I'm sorry._

 _I'm so sorry._


End file.
